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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29117877">This is Where I Belong</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookQueen12321/pseuds/BookQueen12321'>BookQueen12321</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dances with Wolves (1990)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Colonization, Culture Shock, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Light Angst, Native American/First Nations Culture</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:49:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,930</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29117877</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookQueen12321/pseuds/BookQueen12321</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
      <p>Notes: Hello everyone and welcome to my second ever fanfiction!! So funnily enough, my this fic is also centering around Indigenous characters/story. If you can’t tell already, I’m a Native American history minor and am very passionate about telling stories respectfully and with as much historical accuracy as possible. But that being said, I’m also a hopeless romantic, so I’ll be changing a few things to fit the plot. The biggest change I am making is in regards to the 1951 Treaty of Fort Laramie in which the US “allowed” Native tribes to continue living and hunting on several thousand acres of land in the Dakotas, Nebraska, and Wyoming as well as their sacred land of the Black Hills. I acknowledge the horrific and brutal genocide on the part of the US that realistically followed the movie, but for the sake of the characters’ happiness I am editing history a bit. That being said, I encourage everyone to learn about betrayals and massacres that the US committed in their quest for power and land and on what Native tribes’ land they currently reside on: https://native-land.ca/. In keeping with the language of the times, I will be using “Natives” to refer to the various indigenous tribes that we encounter in the fic, although I understand that each individual has different preferences for how they identify. In terms of ages, the film never specifies how old everyone is, so I am just assuming they’re in their early to mid 20’s. My final note is in reference to language. I am NOT fluent in Lakota, so all dialog will be written in English, but all the dialog in italics will be English and non-italics in Lakota. With alllllll of that said, please enjoy This is Where I Belong!</p>
    </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dances With Wolves/Stands With a Fist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Found on the Plains</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Notes: Hello everyone and welcome to my second ever fanfiction!! So funnily enough, my this fic is also centering around Indigenous characters/story. If you can’t tell already, I’m a Native American history minor and am very passionate about telling stories respectfully and with as much historical accuracy as possible. But that being said, I’m also a hopeless romantic, so I’ll be changing a few things to fit the plot. The biggest change I am making is in regards to the 1951 Treaty of Fort Laramie in which the US “allowed” Native tribes to continue living and hunting on several thousand acres of land in the Dakotas, Nebraska, and Wyoming as well as their sacred land of the Black Hills. I acknowledge the horrific and brutal genocide on the part of the US that realistically followed the movie, but for the sake of the characters’ happiness I am editing history a bit. That being said, I encourage everyone to learn about betrayals and massacres that the US committed in their quest for power and land and on what Native tribes’ land they currently reside on: https://native-land.ca/. In keeping with the language of the times, I will be using “Natives” to refer to the various indigenous tribes that we encounter in the fic, although I understand that each individual has different preferences for how they identify. In terms of ages, the film never specifies how old everyone is, so I am just assuming they’re in their early to mid 20’s. My final note is in reference to language. I am NOT fluent in Lakota, so all dialog will be written in English, but all the dialog in italics will be English and non-italics in Lakota. With alllllll of that said, please enjoy This is Where I Belong!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When the Lakota found her after her family was murdered by the Pawnee, she lost her name. Without a name or a family or a place in the tribe, she became the village servant, doing chores that no one wanted and walking to the furthest corners of camp each day to run errands. Most mornings, women would send her with buffalo stomachs to the river to gather their water for the day. It was brutal work for a girl so small, but the girl with no name enjoyed it; in the early hours before most of the village was awake, she was alone with the birds’ song and the soft mist in the air. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was on these walks that she met Wakes with the Sun. As indicated by his name, he was well known for being the first one awake within the tribe. Unlike the girl with no name, he had no chores to accomplish this early, but still he rose each day and sat at the banks of the river watching the sun rise as she filled the skins. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For months they never spoke, just gave each other cordial nods and eventually small smiles when they crossed paths. This changed one day when the sky was covered in dense and ominous rain clouds that poured down upon the village. Although the sun was hidden, the girl with no name got up as usual before dawn to fill the water skins. She managed to make it to the river with little incident, but trudging back to camp, her arms ached with the weight of the water as her feet slipped and sank into the mud with each step. Weary and alone, she was beginning to think she lost her way when she saw a figure emerge from the dark. Wakes with the Sun, his own hair drenched, approached her wordlessly and took the water skins from her trembling fingers. With him leading, they arrived back at the village as the rain began to let up. He passed the water back to her and walked off like nothing had happened. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For weeks, it was all the girl with no name could think of and everytime they crossed paths, they shared a secret smile and she remembered his kindness. As the weeks went by, the girl with no name grew into Stands with a Fist and the scared, scorned white girl became a strong, smart Lakota woman. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adopted officially into Kicking Bird’s family, she was no longer obligated to serve the village at large and instead spent most of her day with his wife Black Shawl and daughter Sings at the Moon. She spent long hours with them and the other women of the tribe learning about Lakota life and skills. Before long, no one remembered a time when she was the girl with no name, Stands with a Fist was one of them in every way that counted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Although she no longer required to fetch water each morning, old habits die hard and she found herself awake before her family with great regularity. Whenever she did, she would wander down to the river to find Wakes with the Sun waiting for her in their usual spot. They would sit together for as long as they could-- sometimes speaking, sometimes in silence-- before their respective obligations called to them and they parted ways. By this time, Stands with a Fist had fully mastered the Lakota language and they could discuss anything from the buffalo migration to their deepest thoughts and dreams. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As she grew into womanhood, the question of marriage soon arose. Kicking Bird was a man of great influence and to marry a member of his family, even a white one, was a great honor. By the time Stands with a Fist turned 18, the age of legal adulthood, her brother Red Feather had already married, making her the next eligible family member. Many men from their village came to request her hand from Kicking Bird; they brought as gifts majestic horses, exquisite beadwork, and hand-carved peace pipes. Her father acknowledged the gifts, but refused to accept any offers until he conferred with the Great Spirit and, more importantly, his wife. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Black Shawl was impressed as well by the wide array of goods the men had provided, and they were all good men, that was certain. But she knew that Stands with a Fist’s heart lay with someone else. Although the girl did not know it, the woman saw her each morning she left to meet with Wakes with the Sun and saw the way he looked at her daughter. So when he appeared before Kicking Bird to ask for his daughter’s hand, it was Black Shawl’s nod of approval that granted his request. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As with all Lakota weddings, the preparations began immediately. The gifts to the bride’s family were accepted graciously and the two families met that night to confirm the engagement. While their parents talked of logistics and marital tipis, the young couple met eyes across the fire and smiled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After only a few brief weeks, the two were wed. As the medicine man of the tribe, Kicking Bird officiated the ceremony, offering words of praise to the Great Spirit for bringing two souls together in harmony. He reminded them of their obligations to one another: for the man to provide his wife with plenty of buffalo and protect her with his life; for the woman to care for her husband with a warm tipi and bless their family with children. Sealing their promises with a kiss, the couple departed the exuberant festivities to celebrate their marriage in private. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sex was a natural and accepted aspect of Lakota culture, and while neither of them had engaged in it before, they knew from their elders the ways in which a man and a woman became one. While clumsy and fumbling at times, they rejoiced in being as close with one another as humanly possible. Finally when their bodies demanded food and respite, they exited their home to receive well wishes from their families and the village. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stands with a Fist loved her husband dearly. Every morning they woke together at dawn and walked hand in hand down to the river. During the day, they would each be busy with their duties to the tribe, but their thoughts were never far from one another. Each night, Wakes with the Sun took his wife to bed and lavished her with love and affection, which she returned fervently. Even after many months of marriage, their devotion remained strong and their passion undamped. The only disappointment to darken their door came once a month when Stands with a Fist would wake with blood between her legs, a sign that she was still not with child. Although they longed to expand their family, Wakes with the Sun told his wife time and time again that he was a patient man and had no desire to rush the Great Spirit’s plan. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It seemed, in these moments, that there was nothing that could disturb the life they had built until a year into their marriage, they received word from their Chyenne allies that a Pawnee war party was swiftly approaching. Bidding his wife a tender goodbye, Wakes with the Sun accompanied the rest of the warriors to meet them. Stands with a Fist waited anxiously with the rest of the village for news of their fate and prayed constantly for her husband’s safe return. But it was not to be. When Wind in His Hair, her husband’s best friend, gently laid his body down in front of her, Stands with a Fist collapsed in utter despair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not even when her family had been killed could she remember such anguish, such heartbreak, and it seemed as if there was no way to escape the darkness threatening to crush her very soul. For days, she laid despondent in her family’s tipi, unable and unwilling to drink or eat much of anything. She was trapped within her own sorrows, thinking back on their life together with regret and longing. In such a place that she could bear no longer, she came to the conclusion that she would rather live in the next life with him than in this one without him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Early one morning, as the rest of the village slept, Stands with a Fist took her husband’s knife and ran towards the east, finding a lone tree where she could make her journey in peace. She wept again, mourning the life that had been so cruelly snatched from her and the future she would never have. Her hands shook as she moved the knife closer to her body, trembling with fear and anticipation when a sudden noise caused her hand to slip, leaving a deep slash down her stomach. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Turning, she saw a strange man approaching her on horseback, his skin white like her own and his clothing strange. She cried out and attempted to run, but her days with little nourishment had left her weak as did the blood she was losing. He spoke to her in the language of the white men, one that brought her mind to another time of sadness and loss in her life. Unable to understand him, she continued to fight in vain, though she did not know why she was doing so. Weakened as she was, she began to collapse, the knife dropping from her hand as she finally lost consciousness. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she awoke next, it was back in Black Shawl’s tipi, with Sings at the Moon and Pretty Shield, a village elder, at her side. The smell of healing sage was strong in the air and her body felt rested in a way it hadn’t in days. She sat up tentatively, reaching down to feel that her wound had been bandaged and was only mildly sore. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her sister embraced her fiercely, “You worried us.” she scolded, her voice rough with unshed tears. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stands with a Fist hugged her back just as tightly, still reeling from the events that flashed through her mind in a confusing spiral. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let her rest now,” came the voice of Pretty Shield, “I will come for you when she is ready for more visitors.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nodding, Sings at the Moon released Stands with a Fist and planted a swift kiss to her head before exiting the tipi. Now alone, the elder checked her wounds once more, ensuring that no infection was taking root, and encouraged her to drink some of the medicine she had prepared. They sat in silence, the older woman seemingly waiting for her to initiate the conversation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know what else to do” the young woman admitted after several minutes of silence, “the grief was overwhelming and I didn’t know how to go on.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pretty Shield nodded her head encouragingly, “I too lost my husband sooner than I thought. A fever swept through the village many winters ago and he departed to the Great Spirit. I too felt like the world was closing around me and that I had nothing left to live for. But by that time, I had young children to tend to who needed their mother, so I made myself strong for them.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She reached over and cupped Stands with a Fist’s face in her hands, “I know you have no children of your own, but you have a family and a tribe who love you greatly. Do not add to their loss by taking your own life. The Great Spirit has plans for you yet.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stands with a Fist had thought herself cried out, but Pretty Shield’s words brought fresh tears to her eyes as she was wrapped in the gentle arms of the elder. Although she had difficulty believing it herself, she knew in her heart that despite the loss she had suffered, she would be strong and continue to live for those who had moved on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After that day, her physical and emotional health continued to improve little by little. She began to eat regularly again and her wound, while it would scar, was no longer in danger of becoming infected. Her days were growing easier, she spent them as she used to with the women of the tribe and found it easy to lose herself in a piece of beadwork or in a buffalo hide. But it was in the mornings especially where her heart longed for Wakes with the Sun; to lay in the tipi they once shared only served to remind her of the emptiness where he had been. With encouragement from her family, she opened up more and more about her feelings and they invited her to return to live with them, at least until his absence was less fresh in her mind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This decision was quite serendipitous as the day after moving, her father approached her with the news that the white man who had saved her would be returning to the village for peace talks in a few days and would be staying in her empty tipi. “When he does, you will interpret the white words for us.” he told her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stands with a Fist was shocked, it had been years since she had spoken the language of her birth and the last time she heard it was when said white man found her alone on the plains. How could he ask such a thing from her when he knew it only brought up memories of hurt and confusion? Pacing at the river’s edge where she used to sit with Wakes with the Sun, she turned his request over and over in her mind. Logically, she knew that this was essential for the tribe; more and more white men had been encroaching on their lands in recent years and to have a translator would greatly improve their chances of peaceful negotiations. More than that, it was a way to honor the memory of her birth family who she could now barely remember. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As she walked, she tested the words that for so long laid dormant in her mind, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hello. How are you? Sun, sky, horse, husband</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With sufficient practice, and a fluent speaker to talk with, she felt confident that she would soon understand the white words just as well as she had before. If nothing else, such a strange task would distract her from mourning Wakes with the Sun and give her a productive task to focus on. She wondered what the white man would have to say to them, where he came from, and what his name was. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Learning Their Ways</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello again and a huge thank you to everyone who has read so far &lt;3 please feel free to leave comments with questions or suggestions :) </p><p>DISCLAIMER: I do not own the film Dances with Wolves nor do I have any claim to or expertise in Lakota language or culture. Please feel free to educate yourself on issues facing modern Native Americans and find what tribe's land you live on here: https://native-land.ca/</p><p>Now enjoy the second chapter of This is Where I Belong :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The white man was nothing like she had expected. When Kicking Bird returned to camp with him a few days after their discussion, she hadn’t expected to meet a man her own age with sorrowful eyes that looked as if they’d seen more than many elders. The two men approached her and she did her best to smile despite the pounding in her chest. It was from nerves, she assured herself, and not because of the attractive newcomer in front of her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a nod from her father, Stands with a Fist began to speak hesitantly at first, but gaining confidence as the white words came back to her. After introducing everyone-- the man’s name, she discovered, was John Dunbar --and translating the dozens of questions that Chief Ten Bears, Kicking Bird, and Wind in His Hair had, they asked her to take him on a tour of the village. They walked mostly in silence, breaking it only when Stands with a Fist would point out objects to him in both Lakota and English or when he would stop to ask her a question. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She still did not know what to make of this strange man; he was here in their land as a representative to his people, but for some reason they had abandoned him? Although the memories of her youth were hazy at best, she remembered clearly how little loyalty there was within the white people compared to the Lakota. Later that night, after she had shown him to his (her) tipi, Kicking Bird approached her again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Daughter,” he began, “the elders and I have decided that we will continue to welcome John Dunbar as our guest. There is much we can learn from him, but to do so he must understand our ways and our language. Will you teach him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unlike the first time he had made such a request of her, Stands with a Fist had anticipated his question and prepared a response, “Of course, we will begin tomorrow.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For the next several weeks, Stands with a Fist’s life was intertwined with John Dunbar. Each morning, after fetching water for her family and ensuring that their fire continued to burn strong, she would meet him at his (her) tipi with breakfast for them to share. They would make small talk while they ate, mostly in English, and afterwards they made their way to the shaded banks of the river where their lessons took place. When she came to live with the Lakota, she was young enough to absorb the language unconsciously, like a sponge and thus had no concrete explanation for how she learned the language for it had come to her naturally. John Dunbar did not have this advantage. So Stands with a Fist found the best strategy was to begin with individual words and when he had a large enough vocabulary, she would begin to speak to him exclusively in Lakota. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were both pleasantly surprised when, after the first two weeks, he was able to name most common objects and was even beginning to form basic sentences. On the first day that he greeted her in Lakota, his excitement was contagious and Stands with a Fist could not help but smile along with him as he repeated the phrase to her over and over. Thrilled with his, albeit limited, fluency, he spent a good portion of the morning flitting around the village greeting everyone in sight, “Good morning! Good morning! Have a good morning!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The scene only improved when a group of children, encouraged by his example, began following him around and repeating with him, “Good morning! Have a good morning!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Watching from off to the side, Stands with a Fist began to laugh so hard, tears dripped down her face and her sides ached. She realized with a start that this was the first time she had laughed since Wakes with the Sun had died. Somehow, this white man had brought joy back to her life, and when he looked towards the sound of her laughter and their eyes met, she knew in her heart that she had done the same for him. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>It has been roughly two months since I first encountered the Lakota people. While there is still much to learn, I feel I am making great progress in understanding their language and who they are as a people. Most of this I can attribute to Stands with a Fist, who has been my constant companion, teacher, and friend</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John Dunbar paused his entry to flip to a previous page in his journal where a detailed sketch of Stand with a Fist looked back at him. When Kicking Bird had first invited him to the village, he was relieved to find someone who could speak his language and help him to understand his new friends. Since the initial visit, he had a standing invitation to stay with the Lakota people whenever and for as long as he would like. So despite his loyalty to the army and his duties at Fort Sedgwick, he found himself spending less and less time there in favor of the Lakota village. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>The people are nothing but gracious.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he began to write again, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“They have provided me with my own tipi and provide me with all I could ask for and more. On days that I do not spend learning with Stands,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>which was the nickname he affectionately used for her, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I am welcomed in meetings with the men to talk of trade, war, and the upcoming buffalo hunt. At the last meeting, Kicking Bird asked me if I would be interested in joining and although I could sense Wind in His Hair’s disapproval, I gave my hearty acceptance.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The upcoming hunt was actually the reason for his return to the Fort; given the fact that he had been absent for sometime, and planned to be for a great more, he decided it would be best if he returned for a few days to conduct any necessary repairs, restock his bullets, and collect some sugar and coffee to share with his hosts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he had first arrived to find the fort abandoned, he resigned himself, out of a sense of obligation, to a lonely and dull life. However, all of that changed when he found Stands with a Fist alone on the prairie that day. Her attempted suicide, while tragic, had led him to their village not as a combatant, but a friend and this small gesture had opened their entire world to him. He was grateful to this woman for many things-- her patience, her knowledge, her smile, her warmth-- but above all, he was grateful that God, the Great Spirit, Fate or whomever had brought them together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was he in love with her? How could he not be! From their first meeting, he knew instantly that she was a strong woman, with fierce convictions and a heart that loved so deeply that it breaking had led her to nearly take her own life. In all their discussions since, this had been the one topic he was too afraid to breach. Although no one had said it outright, he could tell that her actions had been motivated by loss. The loss of who, he still was unsure. She had no husband, he would have noticed, and by that logic it was incredibly unlikely that she had lost any children. Perhaps a sibling, or parent? But as far as he could tell, she was Kicking Bird’s daughter despite the fact that she was white. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>These questions swam around his head continuously, yet he could not bring himself to ask. Their relationship was precious to him and he was unwilling to risk it by breaking a cultural taboo that he did not yet know of. So, he resigned himself to sharing his feelings and his curiosities with his journal alone, at least for now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a few solitary days at Fort Sedgwick, John was finally ready to return to the village. He packed Cisco with the items that he would need and took off swiftly, eager to be among his friends once more. A single man all his life, this newfound desire for companionship and family had surprised him greatly. Although the army had its fair share of camaraderie, it was nothing like the genuine warmth that he experienced with the Lakota. The more time he spent with them, the more he learned their ways and their language, the harder it was to depart each time he returned to the Fort. The thought of living permanently among them had crossed his mind more than once, but despite all of his progress, he knew there were still some who were hesitant to fully accept him. This buffalo hunt, he decided, would be a chance for him to prove himself, adding more anxieties to his already heightened nerves. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, these worries disappeared quickly as he finally arrived at the village only a few hours after sunrise. In contrast to his other arrivals, such as the one a few days ago where he had been mistaken for an intruder while trying to tell them of the buffalo, this one was exuberant and joyful. Many of the village children, whom he was best at communicating with, and a few of the elders noticed him first and greeted him excitedly. The young ones in particular were anxious to see what gifts he had brought back with him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Patient,” he scolded them halfheartedly, laughing as they attempted to rifle through the bags to inspect the goods themselves, “Soon I show you, first show elders.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he pried himself away from their pressing questions to greet Kicking Bird and the others, he could not help but look around expectantly for a certain woman who he still did not see. It was only after presenting the coffee and sugar to Ten Bears and tending to Cisco that he saw her coming towards his tent with a bundle in her arms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He beamed, hurrying towards her, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hello Stands, I...</span>
  </em>
  <span>" his next thoughts were cut off as she adjusted the bundle in her arms to reveal a small sleeping infant. The shock on his face must have been evident as she laughed softly and answered his unspoken question, “This child is not mine, Red Feather’s wife has just given birth and I decided I would take the child on a walk so that they could have a few minutes rest.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stands with a Fist looked down tenderly at the baby and then back at him, “Like you, she still has not been given her Lakota name, but for now we will call her Little Moccasins after her mother.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John couldn’t recall the last time he had seen a baby, and he certainly had never met one only hours after being born. Still, seeing Stands with a Fist holding her with such gentle confidence made his heart beat quicken; could there ever be a future where she held their child in such a way? His eyes locked with hers and he could swear that the same desire and love he felt for her was reflected in her eyes, but before he could confirm, a voice called out to Stands from further in the village. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Beaded Moccasins wants to nurse the little one now, I should return her. Then I must help the women to prepare the village to move with the buffalo, but I wish you luck on your first hunt.” She gave him one final smile before walking back the way she came. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could have watched her for hours, but Wind in his hair, who was slowly warming up to him, approached him swiftly, “John Dunbar, if you are to hunt with us you must begin your preparations now.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Within an hour, the entire village had been packed up and was moving towards the area where the buffalo herd had been spotted by the scouts. John spent much of the ride near the front with Kicking Bird, listening attentively as the medicine man described the intricate strategy that accompanied buffalo hunting, anxiously awaiting the chance to prove himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luckily, he did so and more; not only did he bring down a significant number of buffalo, but he also happened to be in the right place at the right time to save Smiles a Lot from a charging bull. As the tribe celebrated the successful hunt, he was asked to recount the story again and again. Although his Lakota had improved dramatically over the weeks he spent learning with Stands with a Fist, he still struggled with complex grammar structures and so his sentences were more like individual words strung together than complete thoughts. Despite this, the people thoroughly enjoyed his dramatic retellings and by the time they retired for the night, he was exhausted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This was part of the reason he was so surprised to see that Kicking Bird and Black Shawl still had enough energy to engage in...marital relations. Something that he learned quite accidentally throughout his time with the Lakota was their passion and lack of taboo around sex. In white culture, sex was something resigned to the privacy of the marriage bed, whereas within their culture it was an accepted and normalized form of affection. While a large part of him was embarrassed by the action, and to be caught staring, he also wondered what it might be like to share such intimacy with another person. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Throughout his youth, his family was often pressed for money and all of his spare time was spent working, leaving no time for romantic or sexual relationships. When he joined the army, his free time became even more limited. John knew that other soldiers spent nights here and there with nurses or local women, but these one night stands held no appeal for him and thus to this day, John Dunbar was a virgin. He wasn’t ashamed of the fact, but it did mean that he had a certain...longing for a woman’s touch that was only exacerbated by his love for Stands with a Fist. There were times when they were together that his thoughts drifted towards more sensual scenarios which he quickly dismissed for fear of embarrassing himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With his mind running rampant and adrenaline still pumping through his veins, it was quite some time before he was able to fall asleep. When he awoke the next morning, the camp was already alive and bustling with activity. The day after a hunt, he learned quickly, was even busier than the day of as the people worked to dismantle and prepare the dead buffalo for its variety of uses. They wasted not a single part of the animal, everything from the meat to the bones to the hair were used in some way. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As John started his day, he went first to Kicking Bird to inquire as to his role in the day’s events. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Man’s work is done,” the Lakota man explained, “now we watch and assist as the women prepare the buffalo. We shall stay at camp here for a week longer, then we will return to the fall site.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wracking his brain for the proper format, John asked, “My buffalo where?” As had been established the day before, he killed three of them himself, four if you counted the one that nearly killed Smiles a Lot. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kicking Bird grinned sneakily, “Since white man has no wife, Stands with a Fist offered to prepare them for you. She is over there with Black Shawl and Beaded Moccasin”. He gestured off to the left, beyond the circle of tipis that had been put up the day before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John blushed; even with his limited cultural knowledge, he understood what Kicking Bird was implying, the other man clearly knew of his affections for his daughter. Yet based on his cheery disposition, he didn’t seem to mind. Filing that information away for later, John nodded to the other man and set off to find Stands. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. One of Us</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yall I don't know WHAT happened but this chapter suddenly grew to 5k words without my even realizing. These characters just have a mind of their own...anyway I am SO happy that people are enjoying this story and I hope you continue to read, leave kudos, and drop me some comments! :) a quick note if anyone is actually a die-hard fan of the movie, I forgot that the movie already has a scene where he learns his Lakota name, so I made up my own. also ps I didn't check the grammar super well, so apologies for any weirdness </p><p>DISCLAIMER: I do not own the film Dances with Wolves nor do I have any claim to or expertise in Lakota language or culture. Please feel free to educate yourself on issues facing modern Native Americans and find what tribe's land you live on here: https://native-land.ca/</p><p>Now enjoy the third chapter of This is Where I Belong :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Stands with a Fist!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The jubilant greeting of John Dunbar pulled Stands with a Fist from her task of braiding a new bow string. After the hunt, he stayed with them in their temporary camp for several days sitting with her and watching as she prepared the buffalo he had killed for their many uses. What Kicking Bird told him was true, she had volunteered to prepare John’s buffalo for him, but it was not only for selfish reasons. Yes, perhaps her biggest motivation was because she was growing more in love with him each day, but she also knew that he was so anxious to prove himself to the People, to earn his place among them. She knew that she could expedite that by providing him with several furs, knives, and even bows from the beasts he had slain; with such material proof of his dedication, even Wind in his Hair would be sure to come around. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now, the man in question was running excitedly towards her having just arrived back at the village after a few days at his fort. She never understood what it was John did there. His obligation to his people was admirable, but after weeks of no news, she began to wonder if they had abandoned him. This made her far happier than she had any right to be; not that she wished John any heartache, but if the white men were never to return, not only would the People maintain their ancestral lands, but perhaps he would stay and make her his...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stands with a Fist shook her head violently as the thought tried to make itself known. It was one that had crossed her mind many times and whenever it did, she shoved it as far away from herself as she could. What was she doing, dreaming of another man when she was not yet released from mourning her husband? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was little time to further interrogate her treacherous heart as John had finally reached the front of his tipi where she had been sitting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pausing dramatically in front of her, his eyes twinkling with mischief, he greeted her quite strangely, “Hello, I have not seen you before, what is your name?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>From the precise and confident way he phrased the sentence, it was clear to Stands with a Fist that he had practiced it quite a bit. So, playing along, she responded in kind, “Hello to you sir, I am called Stands with a Fist. Who are you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You may call me Dances with Wolves.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The look of shock on her face seemed to be the exact reaction he was looking for as he quickly and animatedly recounted to her the story in a mix of Lakota and English of how he had received his name only minutes before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So caught up in the excitement of his news, she stood almost without thinking and embraced him in congratulations. He hugged her back exuberantly, lifting off her feet and twirling her around before setting her back down. As he did, she found herself lost, as she often was, in the ocean of his blue-green eyes and could have kissed him then and there if Smiles a Lot hadn’t made his way over to greet the white man too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pair broke apart hastily as the younger man approached, but he seemed not to have noticed the intimate moment and made no comment of it as he chatted excitedly with John, or Dances with Wolves as he was now known, about the feast being held that night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“After a good hunt, we always celebrate with a huge feast! There’s dancing and food and music and food..."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stands with a Fist felt her heart warm as other members of the village gathered around to greet their long awaited guest; Kicking Bird clasped hands with him, Pretty Shield kissed him on the cheek, and even Wind in his Hair gave him a cordial nod. Slowly but surely, she had seen John Dunbar transform from a stoic, lonely soldier to a beloved and respected Lakota man. She knew it was unrealistic and she knew she was selfish, but she could not help but hope that he would find his place among the People as she had and that when her mourning was over, he would want her as deeply as she wanted him. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Doing as Black Shawl had instructed him, Dances with Wolves removed his well worn uniform and dressed instead in some of the new clothes that Stands had made for him out of his buffalo skins. The ceremony tonight, as Kicking Bird explained in greater detail, was a celebration of another successful hunt and given his own role in saving Smiles a Lot, Dances with Wolves would be the guest of honor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Such a title was humbling, if not a bit embarrassing for a man who prided himself on living modestly and doing what needed to be done without focusing on personal glory or reward. That being said, it was nice to be recognized and it certainly didn’t hurt that it significantly improved his credibility with the tribe. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Also influencing his reputation was the vast array of buffalo goods that he now processed thanks to the hunt and, primarily, to Stands with a Fist. He had now idea how she was able to create the items she did with only an animal, but now that she did, he had knives, bows, baskets, and even a new wardrobe. The Lakota weren’t the capitalist society that he grew up in and instead of seeing material possessions as a sign of wealth and status, they viewed it as a way to provide for one’s family and give to others. In this way, his successful hunt had proven his ability to be a part of the tribe and contribute to its overall well being. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Having stalled as much as he could, Dances with Wolves exited his tipi and made his way towards the sounds of beating drums and animated chatter. It was just before nightfall and the fading sun cast a warm glow across the entire prairie in addition to the light from the roaring bonfire that was lit a little ways outside of the main camp. The entire village bustled around it; young children chased each other merrily, men were setting up drums and adjusting dance regalia, and women -who had been cooking all day- began to dole out food in generous quantities. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unsure of where to go, he stood on the edge for a few minutes more, basking in the genuine joy that radiated from the people who had so graciously adopted him as one of their own. Unfortunately, his presence was quickly spotted and several children swarmed him at once, clamoring for him to retell the story of his heroic rescue. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Settle down young ones.” came the voice of Kicking Bird who also noticed his arrival, “Dances with Wolves will tell the story for all of us very soon.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Satisfied for now, they ran back off to whatever game they were playing and the two men laughed at their short attention spans. As the older man escorted him to his place within the circle, Dances with Wolves couldn’t help but ask, “And where is Stands with a Fist?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kicking Bird raised his eyebrow at him, as if to wonder why he would ask such a thing, before gesturing over to the other side of the fire where she was busy filling the cups of several elders. From the looks of her clothing, she was one of the ceremonial dancers for the  night and Dances with Wolves barely managed to pay attention to the conversation around him as his eyes followed her movements. Eventually, his attention was diverted as the conversation grew more complex and his mind was busy conjugating verbs and structuring sentences. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he spoke with Kicking Bird and other men about the tribe’s preparations for winter, Black Shawl and Beaded Moccasin brought them over several trays of fresh buffalo meat, wild vegetables, and tea. Both women congratulated him on receiving his Lakota name and chatted casually for a few minutes until Little Moccasin began to fuss. Her mother removed her from the sling on her back and rocked her gently until the baby quieted, but she grew angry once more when placed back in the sling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With other duties to attend to, the young mother wasn’t able to bounce the child all night, so she turned to the men and asked, “Will one of you keep an eye on Little Moccasin for me?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Almost without thinking, it was Dances with Wolves who volunteered which is how he found himself with a small infant in his arms for the first time. Having watched other mothers around the village, he knew that rocking and cooing were good places to start and after a while, tending to the baby became instinctual. When she started to cry, he would rock her again or shift her to a different position. In her happier moods, she was delighted when he played peek-a-boo with her and loved to watch the fire spiral up into the sky. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He passed a good amount of time occupied by both the conversation and childcare and before he knew it, the sun had set, dinner was over, and the ceremony began. Ten Bears stood up and welcomed everyone officially to the celebration, “Let us give thanks to the Great Spirit for gracing us with such a bountiful hut and such a beautiful night. Tonight we honor not only our warriors, but the newest member of our tribe who has gone above and beyond to protect one of our own.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sensing his cue, Dances with Wolves passed the baby to Kicking Bird and walked over to join the chief near the fire. With great theatrics and a carefully practiced script, he recounted the events of the buffalo hunt and the rescue of Smiles a Lot to the delight of the village. An attuned audience, they laughed and gasped in all the right places and when he ended his tale, they gave thundering approval. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After completing his role in the celebration and returning to his spot around the fire, Ten Bears announced the beginning of the ceremonial dances. The Lakota people used dance in a number of ways: to heal, to bless, to thank, to ask of the Great Spirit, and at the end of the day, for fun. That night, the tribe had selected a few dancers to perform a dance of thanksgiving for the fruitful hunt and the safety of the village. Dances with Wolves knew there was cultural symbolism and deep meaning rooted in the dance, but all he could see was Stands With a Fist. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She danced like she was born to do it, her body moving and arching like the flames behind her and her face alight with all the warmth of the sun. She was a vision. Sooner than he would have liked, the performance ended and the musicians struck up a more well known tune that immediately had the rest of the village on their feet and moving. Although no longer saddled with a baby, Dances with Wolves was still hesitant to join in the festivities. That was, of course, until Stands with a Fist made her way over to him and, allowing for no argument, swept him into the circle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For the first few moments, she humored his unease by patiently showing him the movements, but soon after, her only advice was, “Feel it in your spirit!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was difficult at first, he was preoccupied with what the rest of the village must think of him, a white man fumbling through the dance, and was nervous to impress them. But as Stands took his hand and spun him around, he felt his heart lighten and his body began to move on its own accord. He was sure that he wasn’t doing it perfectly, but as he looked around, no one was sparing him even the slightest glance. It seemed they weren’t concerned about the proper footwork either, it was about the sheer joy of being alive, having food to survive another winter, and dancing with those they loved. So, as the stars emerged and the night grew darker, Dances with Wolves did exactly that. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>When the warriors left to confront the Pawnee, Dances with Wolves was in a decidedly bad mood and kept to himself for the rest of the day and into the next. Stands with a Fist understood his frustrations, she too had felt like an outsider for many moons before becoming completely accepted into the hearts of the People and she knew that his masculine pride had taken a sharp blow. On the other hand, she could not help but be angry with him in turn, did he not want to spend time together? Would he rather be in the midst of battle than safe at home with her?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She knew deep down that she wasn’t being entirely fair to him, but still she could not help the way she felt. It was agony to have him constantly close and not be able to have him in the way she wanted, as a husband. Her mourning period had gone on for at least three moons and while that length of time was not unusual, she was still eager for it to end. Did that make her a bad person? Did it dishonor Wakes with the Sun and the life she had with him? This thought kept her up for many days before she dared to open up to Pretty Shield. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the elder confided in her after her rescue from despair on the plains, she too had lost her first husband named Silent Grasses and underwent a period of mourning. “This does not mean I never loved again.” she explained, “It was about six moons later that I fell in love with Running Fox and ended my mourning.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But how did you know it was the right time? That it would not bring shame on the memory of your first husband?” Stands with a Fist pressed on, still in desperate need of reassurance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The elder patted her hand encouragingly, “I knew that Silent Grasses was at peace with the Great Spirit and nothing would bring him back. I also knew that in his heart, he wanted nothing more than for me to be happy whether with him in life, or Running Fox in his death.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stands with a Fist sighed deeply, could it really be so easy to let go of the heartache she had suffered? To let go of the guilt allow herself to be happy once more; to have another chance at a family?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pretty Shield’s parting words interrupted her spiraling thoughts, “There are signs everywhere child, if you know where to look. Hours before I asked to marry Running Fox, I took a walk to contemplate my choice. When I did, the entire prairie fell silent, the birds stopped singing and the grass stood still, as if it was holding its breath for me. I knew in that moment that Silent Grasses was watching over me and blessing me to continue living my life.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a motherly kiss on the forehead, she left the shade of the tree they had been sitting under and Stands with a Fist to her own thoughts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reflecting on the conversation, Stands with a Fist realized that Pretty Shield was right; wherever he was, Wakes with the Dawn would want her to continue living her life and do so happily. Still, she did not feel ready to fully commit herself to another until she had a clear message from her husband, but what would that be? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As she sat considering this, the object of her confusion arrived before her on horseback, smiling down at her in the way that made her weak in the knees. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing right now?” he asked, his tone carefree and completely unreflective of her own inner turmoil. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps”, she thought to herself, “a short outing with him, away from everyone, could help her better resolve her feelings”.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So after grabbing a few of the water skins, she accepted his help to hop up on Cisco and they took off towards the river. A journey that she once made alone, on foot was now one of ease and laughter. Of course, actually gathering the water was a quick and painless chore, but they relished the time together and stalled by talking of his Lakota name and the origins of her own. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Laughing at his pantomime of her story, Stands with a Fist was caught off guard by his next question, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Why aren’t you married</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The question, so blunt and ponigent, shook her in a way she wasn’t expecting and couldn’t contemplate there with him. So, like a coward, she stood up and walked away. Her feelings had been mixed up before, and now they were more certain than ever, she loved Dances with Wolves and wanted to marry him. But Lakota customs discouraged her from speaking of the dead and besides that, she hadn’t expected to have the conversation with him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Stands with a Fist walked back to the village, she came up with a speech in her head of what she would say, how she would explain everything. By the time she got back, she felt confident enough to seek him back out, but when she went to do so to Black Shawl intercepted her and asked her to accompany her on a foraging trip. Unable to say no, she lost an entire day and when she returned, she found that Dances with Wolves had gone back to the fort. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sulked for several days, worrying that she had smothered the small spark that had begun to blossom between them or that he would decide to return East with the white men. On the bright side, with fall halfway over there was no shortage of tasks around the village to finish before winter set in and the weather turned frigid. So she spent the better part of a week bustling around, offering assistance to anyone who needed it and even to those who didn’t. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, Pretty Shield was elected to intervene, “Stands with a Fist, I think it best you take a day to yourself tomorrow.” There was no argument in her tone, leaving the young woman without a choice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She retired early to bed and passed out almost immediately, her body more exhausted than she realized. Despite her intentions to sleep in and rest, her years of servitude had forced her into a habit of early mornings. Deciding to make the most of it, she crawled carefully from the tipi to avoid waking the rest of her family and chose to make her way down to the river. Perhaps there, where she shared so many beautiful memories with Wakes with the Sun, she would find clarity. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stands with a Fist hiked up her dress around her knees and took a few steps into the river, enjoying the rush of cool water against her flushed skin. Closing her eyes, she murmured aloud, “If you’re watching over me, send me a sign. If you want me to move on, let me know.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stayed there for several minutes, content to let the rising sun warm her face and the cool morning breeze blow through her hair. So lost in her meditation, she only heard the crackling of footsteps when they were nearly at the shore. She turned around slowly, knowing intrinsically who it was, and to no surprise, found Dances with Wolves staring back at her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as their eyes met, he made his way to her with a determined stride until he stood at the bank of the river. For him to have found her and to have done so at that moment, well it was the most obvious sign she could think of. Her feet moved towards him on their own accord and soon they were locked in a passionate embrace. Sparing a brief moment for her first husband, she attempted to explain the situation to Dances, but with Wakes with the Sun’s obvious blessing and the blistering heat between them, she was powerless to do anything but sink into Dances with Wolves’ embrace. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their lips met time and time again with an unrivaled passion, the weeks of want and restraint leaving them both desperate for one another. Stands with a Fist knew in her heart that her mourning had ended in that moment, but she recognized that the rest of the village would not be so understanding as she could not be officially released until given Kicking Bird’s approval. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So they had to be careful, “no one can know”. She told him, to which he readily agreed. Without breaking apart, he lifted her deftly into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried them to shore. Dances with Wolves knelt on the ground, lowering her gently onto the soft grasses at the river’s edge and holding himself for a brief moment above her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stone Calf told me about your husband,” he whispered to her, mixing his speech with Lakota and English in his haste to get the words out “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I understand now why we couldn’t be together, but I love you Stands</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and I don’t want anything to be between us. I want to marry you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her heart sung at his admission and a few tears of joy trailed down her face. He brushed them away tenderly, leaving his hand resting on her cheek as she fought to come up with a response in any language. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stands with a Fist took his hand and pressed a soft kiss to his hand, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I love you too</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And although Kicking Bird hasn’t released me from mourning, Wakes with the Sun has sent me a sign that our time has come. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t want to wait</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Emboldened by her words, Dances with Wolves let out a low moan and brought their lips together once more. As desire pooled steadily in her belly, Stands with a Fist took matters into her own hands by nudging him with her knee until he rolled them over, putting her on top. With more mobility, she began kissing down his neck, leaving small bites on all the places that made him groan. She indulged herself further by undoing the first several buttons of her shirt which allowed her lips more room for exploration. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She could feel the man beneath her tense more with each teasing kiss, his anticipation radiating off him in waves. However, it wasn’t until his hips began to thrust sporadically into hers that she knew they both could wait no longer. Stands with a Fist shifted her weight back to her knees, hovering just far enough above him to allow Dances with Wolves to unbutton his pants and shove them down to his thighs, freeing his erect member. She felt herself grow wetter just at the sight of it; apart from missing her first husband emotionally, she had also been desperate for more...intimate...physical contact for weeks.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Settling back above him, she pulled her dress up around her waist and prepared to pull him into her when he sat up suddenly. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Stands</span>
  </em>
  <span>”, he moaned breathlessly, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Are you sure? I just, I haven’t, I mean I’ve never done this before.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I want to please you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How was it possible that her love for this man grew so much with each passing moment? Sitting back on her knees, she placed a sweet kiss to his lips, attempting to put into the gesture all that she could not in words. Still, she knew that open communication was important, so she broke their kiss with a sigh, “I love you Dances with Wolves, and here is another way for us to share that love. There’s nothing right or wrong when two people share such a moment, let your body guide you and I will do the rest.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stared at her for a few moments more, as if attempting to assure himself of the sincerity of her words. After several tense moments, he brought them back down and held her hips firmly in his hands. Slowly, she lifted herself up and watched as inch by inch, his cock filled her. When she was fully seated, they both took a moment to breathe, occupying themselves with kisses and amorous touches until Stands was ready to move. When she rocked her hips for the first time against him, they both let out loud cries of passion. From there, it was as if their bodies had been made to love one another. They quickly found rhythm and lost themselves to the intimate dance that they were sharing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For all of his concerns about pleasing her, Dances with Wolves proved to be an excellent student and made sure to lavish plenty of attention on her neck, a deeply erogenous zone for her, as well as on the nub in her folds that she had guided his hand to. Ultimately, it was him who finished first, calling out her name and pulsing deeply within her. Stands threw her head back, so close to the edge that she could practically taste it, and sensing this, Dances with Wolves sped up his remaining thrusts and tweaked her nub in such a way that had her seeing stars. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Both of them now spent, they lay silently together in the grass, catching their breath and trading amorous kisses. While he seemed content to stay there for the rest of the afternoon, Stands with a Fist knew that they couldn’t hide out forever and was the voice of reason that brought them back to reality. They quickly rearranged their clothing, checking one another for any visible love marks or grass stains before cautiously peeking over the reeds. Seeing that the coast was clear, they made their way back to the village. Heart pounding, she couldn’t help but grasp Dances with Wolves’ hand as they walked back and was equally powerless to resist his charm as he pulled her behind a tree and ravished her with kisses not once, but twice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Common sense prevailing once again, she reluctantly detached herself from him and, with a suitable distance now between them, made it the last few feet into the village. It seemed that, upon his arrival that morning, he had come straight to find her at the river. He said he had sensed she would be there; another affirmation of her sign from Wakes with the Sun and his blessing of their union. For that reason, Dances was quickly swept away in a flurry of excitement from the younger children of the tribe and Stands let him out of her sight for a few minutes while she prepared them breakfast. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seeing as she had a forced day off, the two spent much of the day reviewing some more advanced Lakota grammar. They made it a point to stay well within the view of the rest of the village both to avoid suspicion and keep their hands off each other for a few hours at least. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, as the sun went down and the village slept, Stands with a Fist crept from Black Shawl’s tipi into her own, where Dances with Wolves slept. Luckily, he was not asleep either and was ecstatic to see her, particularly when she dropped her dress to the ground and allowed him to lavish attention on her neck and breasts. Now well acquainted with each others’ bodies, they fell into an easy and sensual rhythm that had Stands laying on her back as Dances hovered above her, thrusting into her at an unhurried pace. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were both only minutes from reaching climax when a cacophony of sound outside a cacophony of sound erupted from the village. They both leapt up, throwing their clothes on haphazardly and rushing out of the tipi to see what was wrong. She followed Dances with Wolves to Ten Bears’ tent where a small group of Cheyenne hunters stood talking animatedly with several of the elders.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was worse than she had expected: the Pawnee war party that the Lakota had gone out to meet suddenly changed course and were on their way to the village. The whole thing had been a ruse from the start to lure the warriors away from the tribe and attack while the women, children, and elders were vulnerable. According to the Chyenne, they would arrive the next day at dawn. </span>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Coming Together</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Lol helloooooo everyone, long time no see. I know its taken me a long time to post and the only excuse I have is: college. haha but I promise that I don't plan on letting this story fizzle out, it will be finished! Probably will be about 10 chapters in total but we shall see where it goes. For now, enjoy this steamy chapter! ;)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Inside the tipi, Stands with a Fist could hear the sounds of battle moving ever closer to where she hid with the other women and children of the village. The night before had been sleepless for everyone; Dances with Wolves went with Laughs a Lot back to his fort where he had hidden a large stash of guns. Armed like the white man, Dances with Wolves believed the Lakota stood a better chance against the Pawnee warriors that were coming ever closer. Especially given that the majority of those left at the village were elders, women, and children who had little to no battle experience. Having faced this enemy before, the men and elders who remained planned their defenses with this in mind. </span>
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  <span>This is how she ended up where she was, a gun clutched tightly in her hands. She had never held one before, not even in her previous life as a settler, and had only a few brief minutes of instruction of how to use it. It was Dances with Wolves’ own gun. He gave it to her right as the sun was rising and the village got into position to fight. As he walked away from her, she could tell that he had more to say that he could not with others around. But she could read it in his eyes as clearly as if he had said it aloud, “I love you. I will come back to you. Stay safe.” </span>
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  <span>They all waited in tense silence as the shouts and gunshots drifted further away, but before they could let their guard down completely, a knife began to rip at the walls of their tipi. A Pawnee man entered through the torn buffalo skins with an air of confidence and contempt, as if he believed they would fall easily. Stands with a Fist gave him no opportunity to make another step before she raised the gun, pulled the trigger, and shot him down. The force of the shot knocked her off balance and into the arms of Black Shawl who stood behind her. After recovering her balance, Stands walked cautiously to the rip in the tipi which was held open by the imovil body of the Pawnee warrior. </span>
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  <span>She poked his head with the barrel of her gun, confirming solemnly that he was dead. With the rifle clutched under her arm, she and another woman clumsily lifted the body and pushed it out of the tipi. As they did, Stands heard the sounds of running and poked her head out to see the Sioux chasing the Pawnee towards the river. From the numbers and the cries of joy, she could tell that the tide of the battle was turned. </span>
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  <span>Without hesitation, she gripped the gun tighter in her hands and began to run alongside them, screaming and jeering at the enemy. By the time they reached the river the majority were retreating and the leader of the war party, a man with a black handprint on his cheek, had been surrounded by Lakota warriors. </span>
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  <span>With the battle now over, Stands with a Fist took stock of the battleground for the first time. Scattered all around were the bodies of dead and wounded warriors, most of them Pawnee but far too many were Lakota. Most notable among the deaths, she would later find out, was Stone Calf, one of the most esteemed elders of the tribe. But at that moment, there was only one person who she looked for, and after countless minutes of heart stopping worry, she spotted him in the river. Except for a line of blood dripping down his forehead and the slight limp when he walked, it was clear that Dances with Wolves was alive and well. </span>
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  <span>The rest of the day fell into a blur after that, the village was ecstatic by such a sweeping victory over the Pawnee and relieved to have lost so few. Even so, many hours were spent honoring and burying the dead and tending the wounded. However, once these sobering tasks were complete, the people rejoiced with a large party. For despite the losses, the day had been a win overall and it was only right to celebrate as much as they grieved, for life was about living. </span>
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  <span>The festivities were still going well after sunset which is when the warriors finally returned from their own battle. The reunion of friends, family, and lovers ignited a second wind of celebration that lasted into the early hours of the morning. Throughout it all, it seemed to Stands with a Fist that she and Dances with Wolves were like two birds in flight, circling one another but never landing in the same place. She saw him laughing and talking with the rest of the men, but she was always busy engaged in conversation with someone else or serving another round of drinks to the elders. </span>
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  <span>As tired as she was that night, she wished that she could just sneak back to his tipi and they could pick up where they left off. But with the village still so lively and awake, even nearing dawn, she knew it would be impossible to do so without someone seeing her. So she went to bed alone, unsatisfied and full of longing. </span>
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  <span>The next morning, life resumed as normal. Stands with a Fist awoke at a slightly later hour, as nearly everyone did that day, and got right to work lighting the fire in the tipi she shared with her family and beginning her chores. Around mid afternoon, she was returning to camp with Swift Fox, a young girl who had taken a liking to Stands, after gathering firewood when Kicking Bird approached her. </span>
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  <span>“Stands with a Fist. You will mourn no more.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Two short sentences. Only five words excluding her own name. Yet somehow, they changed her life in such a drastic way that she had trouble comprehending their full meaning for several minutes. She was no longer in mourning, that meant that she was able to wed once more, but according to Lakota customs, it was not her role as the woman to extend an offer of marriage. That would have to come from Dances with Wolves in the form of gifts for her family. This tradition gave the man a chance to show the entire village how much he loved and valued his intended bride. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As she still processed the information, someone, Stands suspected it was Wind in his Hair, told Dances with Wolves that her mourning had been lifted. Almost immediately, he declared his intention to marry her publicly and the entire village set to work contributing to his bride price. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Throughout this, Stands with a Fist was kept busy by other women of the tribe who insisted they help her refit her wedding robes with new beading. This was rather presumptuous, she thought pessimistically, as Kicking Bird hadn’t even given his approval yet. She went to bed that night an anxious mess, tossing and turning and glancing over at her adoptive father every few minutes. To her, it looked as if he was sleeping peacefully without a care in the world for the horses and gifts that lay outside their tent. </span>
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  <span>At some point, she drifted off and awoke the next morning to find the gifts within the tipi, at least the ones that would fit. They got married that afternoon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ceremony was much like her first one to Wakes with the Sun; she wore the same robes and stood before the village just as she had back then. However, this time she was overwhelmed with a love so deep it nearly stunned her. She had loved her first husband, there was no question, but with Dances with Wolves, it felt as if the sun had finally come out after years of winter. That rain began to pour on a bone dry desert. That he was the answer to every prayer she sent to the Great Spirit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>From the way he looked at her, she knew he felt the same and that their lives together would be nothing short of blissful. Stands with a Fist paid significantly less attention to Kicking Bird’s words this time around as her eyes locked with her future husband’s and her focus could not be torn away. Finally, as Kicking Bird recited the final blessing, a cheer went up from the assembled tribe that broke both newlyweds out of their trance. Smiling broadly, she took the hand Dances with Wolves offered her and entered their tipi for the first time as a married couple. </span>
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  <span>With the raucous applause of the village behind them, the pair simply stood and laughed as they closed the flap to seal themselves inside. After a few minutes, they could hear the celebration moving further into the village, leaving the couple alone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The tension that had built up between the two of them during the ceremony was rekindled as their eyes locked again, now in the quiet of their own home. Stands with a Fist felt her heart speeding up and her center already wet with anticipation. It had been less than a week since they had made love for the first time by the river, yet she felt as if it had been years. She longed for him with a ferocity that surprised her; while she hadn’t disliked sex before, making love to Dances with Wolves sparked a fire in her that she knew would never be quenched. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyes, locked on hers, held the same desire and before their minds could even comprehend what was happening, their feet moved towards one another and their lips locked in a passionate kiss. Where their first time had been desperate and fast, this time built more slowly, although just as intensely. They stayed upright for several minutes, undressing each other purposefully and sensually until they stood naked in front of each other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once they were rid of their clothes, Stands with a Fist guided her husband down onto the soft pile of buffalo skins and blankets that some of the women had arranged in their tipi prior to the wedding ceremony. The two lay side by side, eyeing one another hungrily, before embracing once more. As they kissed, she felt Dances with Wolves’ hand reach down between them to rub the small nub at the apex of her folds, making her moan out loud. He then detached his lips from hers, planting kisses down along her neck, shoulders, and stomach until he reached her center. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With her heart in her throat, Stands with a Fist watched enraptured as her husband, his eyes bright with a secret now as well as desire, lowered his mouth to her most sensitive place and kissed her gently. She cried out, her own pleasure skyrocketing as he brought her to climax in a matter of minutes with his tongue, lips, and fingers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reaching down to grasp his face with her hands, she pulled him back on top of her and kissed him fervently. Their tongues danced together as she slowly came down from her high enough to be ready for more. Stands reached down with one of her hands to take a hold of Dances’s hard length, making him cry out and causing his hips to thrust forward of their own accord. They separated ever so slightly, so that she could position him at her entrance and allow him to skink into her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two lay still for a few moments, sharing tender kisses and caresses as Stand with a Fist let her body adjust. But in no time, she was ready and they began to move in tandem, their bodies fitting together as if they were made to do so. Continuing their patient pace from earlier, they established a steady rhythm that had their climaxes building and building until Dances with Wolves found his release. Although overcome with his own pleasure, he loathed to leave his wife unsatisfied. So along with his last few thrusts, he rubbed her nub in the way he knew she liked until she too fell over the edge. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite the fact that it was still fairly early in the afternoon, the newlyweds were exhausted from their rapid wedding preparations and intense lovemaking. So, with no obligations or duties to attend to, they fell asleep for the first time in one anothers’ arms.  </span>
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